


Eyeshadow and Ruffles

by Kivea



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drag Queen Butters, Drag Queen!Butters, Drag Queens, F/M, Gamer Bebe, Gamer!Bebe, Let Boys Wear Skirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-04 01:07:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13353282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivea/pseuds/Kivea
Summary: Prompt: ‘ok you’ve been trying to put on that eyeliner almost the entire bus ride and you’re strugglin, so I’m gonna help you out’“Do-don’t you recognise me?”Bebe looked up, brows furrowing at the airy, pitched voice, almost as if…The girl bit down on a smile as a dusting of pink decorated her cheeks. “It’s-it’s me. Butters.”





	Eyeshadow and Ruffles

**Author's Note:**

> ‘ok you’ve been trying to put on that eyeliner almost the entire bus ride and you’re strugglin, so I’m gonna help you out’ – dailyau.tumblr.com

It was honestly a little painful to watch. 

They were on one of the afternoon buses to the city, loud and crowded with people who were ready for a night out, or a good meal, or visiting family, or returning home. Bebe was returning home, having spent time in South Park to visit relatives before she returned to college. A day obligation that she did once a month and no longer than that. 

She noticed the girl in question early on after they’d all sat down, on her own looking a little out of place from all the rabble, with big eyes that were almost familiar. Bebe was on the other side of the bus a couple of rows down, but that didn’t stop her from catching the flicks of blonde hair every now and then. 

About five minutes in after everyone was settled in their seats the girl got a makeup bag out and began sorting through all the products there, chewing her lip as she picked out various items. She had a small compact mirror and when she turned back to the front of the bus while powdering up her face, all Bebe got were flashes of the big eyes in the reflective glass. 

The foundation went on, as did the powder, smoothing out percaline skin. But as soon as the girl picked up the liquid eyeliner… 

The first try ended up with her blinking rapidly and flailing her hand at her face after she stabbed herself in the eye. 

Twenty minutes passed of watching the poor girl try to apply eyeliner to her eyes, and inevitably wipe it off. The bus would go over a pot hole, or one of the blokes behind her would knock her chair too hard and make her slip. It got to the point where she ended up wiping off all the foundation she’d put on and starting from scratch, a pout on her lips as she scrambled about for the ivory cream. 

Bebe had had enough. She stood up, grabbing her bag and moved over to where the girl was, not willing to allow this train wreck to continue any longer. 

“Hey,” she greeted with what she hoped was a kind smile. “Can I give you a hand?” 

The girl gave a squeak as she jumped, looking up with those big eyes. Big, impossibly blue eyes that caught Bebe in her tracks and had her mouth run dry. “Whu-uhh-ah…” 

“You look like you’re struggling,” she elaborated as the girl stammered at her. “So I figured I could help you out. If you want. I’m pretty skilled at applying makeup in a moving vehicle.” 

The girl nodded her head eagerly, but seemed to curl in on herself as Bebe dropped her bag, shying away from the bigger girl. 

“Can I sit here?” 

“Oh!” another squeak before the girl scrambled to collect her products, making space for Bebe to sit. Blue eyes watched her like a hawk as she made herself comfortable, feeling a little bulky in comparison to the lithe girl next to her. The short blonde hair that flicked out at the ends held its shape perfectly, and pasty knees poked out from the ends of a sky blue dress. 

“You know,” Bebe fished round the products that were presented to her. “You look awfully familiar. Where in Park County do you live?” 

“Do-don’t you recognise me?” 

Bebe looked up, brows furrowing at the airy, pitched voice, almost as if… 

The girl bit down on a smile as a dusting of pink decorated her cheeks. “It’s-it’s me. Butters.” 

Her brain stopped. 

Her jaw fell slack. 

Her eyes blew wide. 

“Butters?!” 

“Oh gosh, Bebe, don’t-don’t be too loud!” the ‘girl’ waved a hand to signal for Bebe to lower her voice. “I don’t wanna be disturbing anyone.” 

“You look…” her brown eyes roamed across the lithe form, cute dress, perfectly pastel shoes. A few different words passed through her brain that could adequately describe the person in front of her. “You look so…” 

“I-I know it’s not much,” Butters started. “But it’s, well, it’s my first time wearing it all out the house, y’see, and I was a little…limited on what I could get.” 

“Where did you get your clothes?” 

Butters shrugged. “I got’em from Karen McKormick. We’re pretty much the same size, and, well…she likes cute things like I do I guess.” 

Bebe continued to gawk. 

“Are you…alright?” 

“What?” she snapped out her stupor, flushing with shame as she realised how rude she was being. “Yeah, sorry. You’re just-you look really cute.” 

“Gosh! Thanks, Bebe! I’m glad you think so.” 

“Let me help you out then,” Bebe scooched closer, more comfortable getting into their personal space now that she knew who it was. “What kind of eye-makeup do you want?” 

“I dunno, Karen usually does this stuff…” 

“Well, what are you gonna be doing in Denver?” 

Butters bit down on their lip, looking down at their lap. Bebe waited patiently for the answer. “I-there’s this place where-well, I’ve always liked performing, y’see, and there’s this place that’s been lookin’ for new boys to perform, who dress as girls, and when we found it, well, it seemed perfect for me!” 

A Drag Queen. Butters was a Drag Queen. 

“I dunno. It all seems a little silly now…” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bebe brushed off the self-deprecating comment. “It’s not silly at all. Are you going on your own? Is Karen not coming with you, or one of the boys?” 

“She’s too young, and I haven’t really…told the boys what I’m doing.” 

She looked up from the makeup with a raised brow. “You haven’t?” 

He shook his head. “Only Karen knows. And, well, now you, I guess.” 

“Kenny?” 

“He-he knows I  _do_ this, but he doesn’t know I’m here.” 

She turned back to the makeup below and picked out an eye shadow to match the sweet, innocent look that Butters had going on, before turning her nose up at the cheap brushes he’d brought. “If we’re gonna be making you look pretty enough to impress, I’m gonna need the right set of tools,” she explained before diving into her own bag. 

“Wha-tools?” 

The hefty makeup bag that housed all her own makeup was brought out and opened up. Butters looked a little green. 

“Bebe…some of that looks kinda…painful.” 

“Beauty is pain,” she drawled with a dramatic tone. “Now sit still and let me work my magic.” 

Butters sat stock still as Bebe started working on his makeup. She concentrated as best she could on matching up his colours to his outfit, having him lift up his shoes into the light so she could see them better, and grasped around for the glittery silver highlighter that she just  _knew_ would make his eyes pop.

He started to turtle up on her when she brought out the mascara and eyelash curlers, shaking his head rapidly before she managed to convince him they were painless by demonstrating on herself, showing what a difference they could make, how much more feminine he would look. He whimpered as she went through the motions as smoothly and quickly as she could. 

She ignored how soft his skin was, or the line of the hair that she could now see was a wig when she was this close. Ignored the tell-tale roughness of a man’s freshly shaved jaw, and the way his breath ghosted across her cheeks. 

“There,” she pulled back as she tidied the wing on his left eye, putting the cap back on her eyeliner pen. “All done.  _Girl_ you look  _fine_.” 

Butters blinked his eyes open and Bebe had to take a moment to calm her heart as the big blues settled on her. He took the compact from his lap and lifted it to his face, shimmering lips parting with a gasp. 

“I look…” 

“Like a motherfucking princess? I know. You’re welco- _oh_.” 

He all but threw himself at her. Pale arms wrapped around her neck and she found her face full of synthetic hair as the smell of makeup and powder assaulted her. She sat dumbly for a few moments as the situation settled in, before reaching round and returning the hug that had been thrown her way. 

“Thank you, Bebe. Thank you so much.” 

The words were so soft in the loud bus that she nearly missed them. 

Butters pulled back with a wide smile and a face that seemed to be shining with the force of his smile. Or perhaps that was just the highlighter. “Gosh, I feel-! Well, I feel like I could just take on the whole world!” 

 _Holy shit her heart._ This boy was too precious. 

“No problem, Butters. Or…what do I call you?” 

“What d’you mean?” 

“What’s, like, your stage name, or whatever?” 

He shrugged lightly. “Oh…I-Kenny calls me Marjorine when I’m all dolled up.” 

The flash of a memory echoed in the back of Bebe’s mind, of a sleepover at Heidi’s house and a weird girl with blonde hair that flicked out at the ends. “Marjorine. I like it.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, really.” 

The bus finally arrived at their destination just as they finished packing up their beauty products. The pair got off together, and Bebe turned with the intention of giving a somewhat reluctant goodbye, stopping short at the sight of  _Marjorine_ standing in the light of the bus station, a rucksack on her shoulders and optimism on her face. 

“Hey…” Bebe started, her palms growing sweaty as she spoke. “If-if you want I can help you find the place you’re looking for. Seeing as…you’re on your own and all?” 

“Why, I couldn’t ask that of you, Bebe! You’ve done so much to help me already; I don’t wanna be putting you out or nothing.” 

“It’s not a problem,” Bebe assured. “It’s not like I have plans with my evening or anything. Only if you want me to come, though, I’m not gonna be like, insulted or anything if you wanna do it on your own.” 

“I think I’d like the company.” 

A grin broke out across Bebe’s face. “Great! What’s the place you’re looking for?” 

She fished around in her bag for a moment before pulling out her phone, flicking through the photos before showing an advert for a club. Bebe recognised the name almost instantly – a frequent patron of the scene in her city of choice – and grinned wide before nodded enthusiastically. 

They approached the gay scene as the sky had darkened, closing in on the club that he was here for. Bebe stopped outside, seeing it tended to open a little later than what they were here for, and scowled down at the advert. A quick glance at her friend’s face told her that this would quickly turn to tears if a solution wasn’t found. 

And she was nothing if not resourceful. 

“Here,” she pulled Marjorine further down the street. “I’m certain a couple of these have like, a stage, or maybe just somewhere we can have a drink while we wait for the club to open?” 

“That sounds swell!” Marjorine responded. “I-I mostly just wanna, you know, scout out the area, I guess. See if it’ll fit me. Or, well, if I’ll fit it.” 

Bebe nodded in understanding and pulled the blonde into the next bar she passed that looked vaguely non-threatening. They stepped into the establishment which seemed to have a decent crowd and a pleasant atmosphere, venturing further. 

As soon as her eyes landed on a stage with a mic and TV step up, someone there operating it and a person dressed smart hovering over their shoulder, she knew she’d hit the jackpot.

“Karaoke,” Bebe grinned, grasping hold of Marjorine’s arms. “Perfect!” 

“What?” 

“You should go up there and do a song!” 

The blue eyes popped and she stammered through her response. “I-I can’t-I don’t have anything prepared!” 

“You came here to perform, right?”

“It-more just to-you know-look and-oh boy, ooh boy, I’m not sure about this.” 

“How about we find someone you can sing with?” Bebe asked as she turned to scour the audience. “I’m sure there’s someone here who’d duet with you.” 

“Well, why don’t you do it?” 

“I can’t sing for shit,” Bebe responded. “We gotta show you off. Someone real good.” 

The blondes got closer to the stage, and Bebe stopped as she noticed Marjorine’s eyes fixated on the person singing in that moment. She looked up to see one of the Drag Kings, standing on the stage and belting away with a melodic voice. They watched for a few moments together, before she squeezed the cold hand grasped in her own and gave a brow waggle. 

“You digging it?” 

“Yeah,” Marjorine whispered. “I think-I think my voice might suit hers. His?” 

“His,” Bebe confirmed. “Let’s go wait by the stage, ask him when he finishes.” 

“Gosh, this is really happening, ain’t it?” 

“It certainly is, babe.” 

They arrived by the steps that led on to the stage, waiting for the gentleman to step down. He had slicked back dark hair and charming smile that Bebe was certain some men wished they’d had, and when he approached them she slipped into a flirty tone without even trying. 

“Hey,” she greeted. “My friend here was hoping to get on stage tonight, but she’s a little shy to go on her own. Would you mind keeping her company up there?” 

“For a lovely lady?” he asked, extending a hand to Marjorine. “Anything. What can I call you?” 

“M-Marjorine,” they took the hand and giggled as he raised it to his lips for a kiss. 

“I’m Connor. You girls from around here?” 

“Oh, no, I’m from South Park. It’s-it’s a small town in Park County. I’ve come down just for tonight.” 

“South Park, huh?” a smile lit up the King’s face. “I’ve got just the song in mind. You wanna come on up with me?” 

Marjorine turned to face her, biting off the lipgloss coating her lips. Bebe gave her a good push towards the stairs, sniggering at the shyness of her friend. “Go on, I’ll hold your bag. I’ll be right here. I promise.” 

The two knocked their heads together as they took the microphones and Connor began whispering in Marjorine’s ear, asking a couple of questions and giving instructions on the song. Bebe brushed her nails across her cheeks as she waited, an excitement buzzing through her as she watched her companion on the stage get ready, both hands wrapping round the microphone and giving a nod to start the music.

A familiar beat started, and Marjorine opened her mouth to start singing. As the words sank in Bebe realised they’d picked Journey, laughing as they recited the line a small town girl, thinking of the bus ride there. 

Marjorine was perfect. Butters was perfect. They were just perfect. 

A couple of the more drunken members of the bar stumbled forward dancing along to the well known song, but Bebe couldn’t take her eyes off the stage. She watched as Connor spun Marjorine round on the spot, the blue skirt going wide and flashing the pale thighs, and she watched as Marjorine’s cheeks stretched wide with a smile as she sang along to the chorus, the two voices melding together. 

She had been right. Their voices did suit each other. 

When it came to an end Bebe gave the loudest applause, whistling loud for the pair. She couldn’t stop herself jumping up and down with excitement as Marjorine raced back to her, the flicks of the blonde wig bouncing as she moved, embracing Bebe in another tight hug. 

“You were amazing!” Bebe gushed. “You were so, so amazing!” 

“Thank you,” Marjorine pulled back, turning as Connor approached them both. “And-uh-thanks, for singing with me. I-I was a little nervous…” 

“You were great,” he assured. “Brilliant. You perform often?” 

“Not-not as often as I’d like. There’s not really anywhere in our town, y’see.” 

“Well if you ever find yourself round these parts again, I’d love for you to visit our place,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “I sing at this little theatre type bar, just a few buildings over. They do all sorts of performances there. It’s nothing quite as flashy as some of the other places, and sometimes people say we’re a little too artsy, but…” 

“Why, that sounds perfect!” Marjorine took the card that was offered. “Just what I’m looking for!” 

“Good. Hopefully I’ll see you soon, then?” 

The pair said goodbye to the King in smart trousers, who returned to the bar. Marjorine turned back with another giddy smile and clutched the card, which Bebe was quick to stuff in the rucksack she’d brought with her. The found a comfy spot and the bigger girl got them a couple of drinks as they watched other people stand on the stage and sing, celebrating the night so far. 

“I-I should really get back to the station,” Marjorine stuttered. “If I miss the last bus there’ll be a whole lotta trouble.” 

“You can crash at mine,” Bebe offered. “Get the first bus home instead?” 

Her fine brows pulled together in thought. “Maybe…my parents do think I’m at Kenny’s house tonight.” 

“Perfect!” 

“I’d have to leave straight away, though!” she insisted. “At the crack of dawn!” 

“I’ll set an alarm. I can walk you back to the station, too.” 

“Why, you’ve been awfully nice to me, Bebe. I don’t know what I can do to say thanks.” 

The innocent look and blue pools, the soft smile and gentle touches. Bebe blew a raspberry, waving off the concern. “It’s no big deal! Us Park girls gotta stick together!” 

“Right!” 

Their night flew by, Marjorine only stopping to text Karen with an update on her night, taking time to answer a call from the excitable McKormick girl and tell her in more detail what had happened. Bebe stayed by her side through it all, a pleasant buzz from the evening and from the cool breeze on her face. 

Her student apartment was shared with three other girls, who were absent when they arrived, or locked up in their own rooms. She guided them through the living room and showed her guest where the bathroom was, before arriving at their destination for the night. 

“And this is my room,” she announced as she opened the door. “I know it’s not much, but…” 

“I like it.” 

She’d kept it simple when decorating, a wall full of photos of her and her friends, a couple of soft toys from home on her bed. Her PC was set up in the corner of the room with rows of video games above it on shelves, making her awkwardly bring the focus to the bed instantaneously to avoid seeming like some kind of nerd. 

“Do you need to borrow pj’s or anything?” 

“I should be fine,” Marjorine assured as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’ve brought spare clothes. In case I, well, chickened out I guess.” 

“That’s fair,” Bebe agreed before moving over to her wardrobe, a wave of tiredness washing over her as she prepared to get ready for bed. She stripped off her red jumper, finally free of the stuffy material before pulling her vest over her head. 

“Whu-what are you doing?!” 

She turned to face Marjorine, seeing the poor thing covering a beat red face in her hands. “What’s wrong?” 

“I-you-oh  _gosh_ I’m sorry I didn’t realise you were gonna change and I-I looked and-?!” 

“Hey, babe, don’t worry about it,” Bebe dropped the vest on the ground and moved to grasp Marjorine’s hands. “It’s fine. It’s just a bra.” 

“You-you just-!” Marjorine refused to meet her gaze, though Bebe caught the way blue eyes flickered to her chest. “You’re a very-uh-a very attractive young lady, and, well, I’m-!” 

She raised a brow, a wicked smirk settling on her face. “You like girls.” 

“Well of course I do!” she snapped. “I-I know I’m all dressed up like one, but, uh, I still  _like_ them! I’m-I’m not like Tweek or Craig!” 

“I’m sorry,” she pulled back, a rush of power coursing through her as the blue eyes flickered across her form again before Marjorine looked down at her lap. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“It’s-it’s fine. I’m sorry I…” 

“It’s flattering, really,” Bebe assured, moving to her draws and pulling out a purple t-shirt, dressing as quickly as she could. “Do you want me to sleep on the couch?” 

“I can’t ask you to do that, this is your house!” 

“I don’t mind,” she assured. “I’m happy to give you the bed. It’s a pretty comfy couch, and I don’t want to make you socialise with my flatmates when you don’t even know them.” 

“Thanks so much, Bebe.” 

“Sure thing,” she grabbed the blanket that was pooled at her computer desk and a pair of pyjama shorts from her drawers. “You let me know if you need anything, ‘kay?” 

“Sure thing.” 

“Sleep tight.” 

A sunshine smile was the response. “Don’t let the couch-bugs bite!” 

She closed the door and took a moment to hold a hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her beating heart, the image of the angelic blonde sitting on her bed smiling brightly at her burnt into her retinas. 

She never wanted to let it go. 

 _Useless_ bisexual. 

* * *

Bebe saw Butters off in the morning, stripped of a dress and his wig, makeup washed from his face. She walked him to the bus station and exchanged one final hug goodbye, mentally noting how she seemed to be a couple of inches taller, even in her converse. 

“Thanks a bunch, for everything,” he repeated, grasping at the straps of his rucksack. “I really owe you one, Bebe.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured. “Just make sure you get me front row seats to your next performance!” 

He gave another wave before boarding the bus back to South Park, leaving Bebe yawning into her hands at the early hour. It wasn’t until she got home and was half way through breakfast she realised she should’ve got a number, some kind of way of contacting him. 

Though she supposed they’d never been particularly close. Maybe it would be strange. 

The text came through unexpectedly during one of her lectures a few days later, phone flashing from its place on the desk. She glanced down, frowning at the unfamiliar number. It wasn’t a contact saved in her phone, and curiosity compelled her to open it there and then. 

_Hey!! Sorry if this is weird, I got your number from Wends. Can I ask a favour?_

Her reply was short and to the point:  _Who dis??_

_It’s Butters :D_

She floundered. Wends had given her number out? Or just to Butters? Why was Butters asking for her number? Well, the first text explained that, he wanted a favour, but why didn’t Wends  _warn her_ that she was going to get a message? 

_Hey!! Butters!! What’s up?_

That was weird. That was a weird text. Christ, she should’ve waited before sending. He knew who he was; he didn’t need her to confirm it for him. 

_Im going to that lil theatre bar place and I need help getting ready._

Foundation and eye shadow and soft cheeks flashed through her memory. She could do that, right? Help him get ready for a night of performance. She could even go with him again, hold his hand and be his biggest cheerleader. Offer for him to stay the night at hers and… 

_Sure! U wanna stay again?_

_If that’s okay._

That was  _so okay_. She texted across and agreement and they soon agreed on a time to meet, the performance only a couple of days away. She insisted that he got there early so she could take him shopping for a brand new dress, swearing to make sure it wasn’t too expensive. 

They met at the bus station again, and Bebe ended up arriving fifteen minutes early in her excitement to see the other blonde again. She’d changed outfits three times, settling on something short and low cut, and tapped away on her phone as she browsed her Instagram waiting for Butters. 

She’d thoroughly chewed Wends out over the phone for not giving her any warning that she was to expect a message off him, who had given an exasperated sigh and simply said ‘really, Bebe?  _Butters_?’ which she thought was entirely uncalled for. 

The bus pulled in and she was left attempting to search for the boy exiting the bus without looking  _desperate._

“Hey!” she waved high as she caught sight of familiar fair blonde hair and pastel colours. “Butters!” 

He grinned wide as he saw her, darting over to where she stood. “Hey there, Bebe! Thanks for meeting me here!” 

“No problem! Are you ready to go?” 

 “I sure am!” he brought a hand up to his shoulder to rub at the tense muscle. “I-uh-I wasn’t sure if I was meant to be all dolled up already, if we’re going shopping for dresses and all, but I brought everything I need in my bag, so, uh, if you want I can get changed before-!” 

“How you are is perfect,” she insisted as she looped an arm round his. “Let’s get going. I have just the place in mind!” 

Their afternoon was spent shopping, darting from shop to shop, Bebe taking the lead and dragging poor Butters behind her. Between the two of them and Karen’s clothing size they figured out the best clothes for him, managing to get into unsupervised changing rooms once or twice. They settled on a couple of dresses on sales racks, going in hard and going in cheap. 

She asked him what kind of style he wanted to wear for Marjorine, and he mused through different options he could have. He always returned to something similar to his usual, pulling off cutesy and floral better than Bebe ever could. She convinced him into a short glitzy number that left her blushing and giggling, and he convinced her into something with more ruffles and puffs than dress. 

“I feel ridiculous,” she stated as they stared across each other in the mirror of the large changing room. “And these ruffles! They make my tits look huge!” 

“Uh, Bebe?” he spoke through his laughter, sequins glittering round his chest. “I-uh-well, that’s cuz they are.” 

She tore it from her body and threw it across at him. 

He had to quickly learn that she had very little in the way of modesty, and would happily share a changing room so that he could show off what he was wearing. She closed her eyes as he would change, covering them with her hands and resisting all temptation to open them again. 

Eventually they returned to her apartment, giggling between themselves as they stumbled through the front door and finally bumped into two of the other girls who lived there. She gave brief introductions before dragging him to her room, ignoring the teasing looks she was receiving from her friends. 

They ate mini pizzas she had in her freezer and gossiped about the goings on in the South Park community, and when it came to turning Butters into Marjorine Bebe babbled on about how she was doing at college and all the Professors she hated. 

She instructed Butters to keep the wig till after the makeup, explaining how it was easier to do it in that order, before she worked her magic. He danced around her room in his new frock and a wig cap as she brushed it out before pinning it in place, smoothing it down and standing probably closer than necessary to the boy. 

“There,” she slid her hands from his head to his shoulders, running down to his elbows. “Pretty as a petunia.” 

He grinned up at her. “Naw, that’s you!” 

_Be still, my heart._

When they finally arrived to the bar, theatre stage and all, and she watched as Marjorine went round each performer present and danced or sang with them, even doing a little routine she’d been working on, Bebe couldn’t have stopped herself falling if she tried. 

* * *

She woke up on the couch, yawning widely and stretching across the material, with fuzz on her tongue that indicated she’d got a little too merry the night before. She picked herself up and moved to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for some orange juice to brighten herself up with. 

When she closed the door she was faced with a nervous Butters hovering in the kitchen entrance, wringing his hands together and shuffling his weight from foot to foot. She smiled wide, giving him a bright good morning that ended up a little scratchy on her unused throat. 

“Bebe?” he took a step forward, shoulders rising as he slumped in on himself. “Can I…ask you a question?” 

The reserved behaviour caught her off guard, and she was careful to put the juice container down before she rested against the counter tops. “Course, sugar. You can ask me anything you want.” 

“Oh, hamburgers, this is hard,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy bedhead. “I don’t really know how to…” 

“It’s alright, take your time. I don’t have anywhere to be today.” 

“Well, I mean-I just-!” he sucked in a breath and steeled his resolve. “I-I really like you, Bebe, and, well, I think you like me too? But I-I wanna make sure you like  _me_ , not just Marjorine.” 

She stopped short, fire rushing through her body at the knowledge she’d been caught. “Wha-how did you-?!” 

He gave her a disbelieving look and folded his arms across his chest. “You kept calling me your cutie pie last night,” he explained. “And then tried to punch a guy for touching ‘your goods’.” 

“That-shit-that was completely uncalled for-and-I mean, he deserved it, if he was touching you-not that you’re  _my_ goods, you’re  _nobody’s_ goods, only your own, so I want to just-you like me too?” 

He rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Sure I do, Bebe. I think you’re just super! You’re always kind to me, and you help me out without asking for nothing in return, and I think you’re a cutie pie too.” 

Oh  _no_ she couldn’t handle this boy. 

“I-thanks,” she raised a hand to cover her burning cheeks. “I’m don’t get called a cutie pie very often.” 

“I’ll make sure I fix that! I mean-that is-if that’s what you want?” 

A grin broke out on her face that was matched for equal worth on his. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

“If-if you ain’t doing much today, would you like to, uh, go on a date, maybe?” 

She nodded one too many times. “Yes! I’d love to!” 

Later that evening when she was saying goodbye at the bus stop, shopping bag with new makeup that they would both probably use, it was a lot more difficult to pull back from the farewell hug. She ducked down and pressed the softest of kisses against his cheek before stepping back with a contagious smile on her face. 

He gave his usual wave, flush on his cheeks that matched her own, and promised to be back soon. 

She promised to be right there waiting. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in HELL 
> 
> I LOVE them 
> 
> WHERE is the content 
> 
> I'm probably gonna go through this and redo a couple parts/check for errors, but I worked really hard on it and I need to play league so I gotta get this OUT


End file.
